"It must be Dover," thought Mr. Mortimer;--yet he had resolved to act prudently, and so he did not positively say so; but bidding his earnest advisers a very earnest farewell, mounted a daily conveyance for Deal and Walmer. There, he was assured by all with whom he conversed, that the "Intellectual Lever" must be published at Dover,--and then--and then--it could not fail to secure the _entire_ patronage of Deal and Walmer! Mr. Mortimer thought the Deal and Walmer people talked somewhat inflatedly anent their straggling sea-side villages,--for so he was inclined to call them: but then, he reflected again, that they shared with Sandwich in returning two members to Parliament. To Sandwich he went, next day; but--what was the importance of any town he had visited compared with Sandwich--in the eyes of its little population? Mr. Mortimer was perplexed--greatly perplexed--for the little old town looked, to him, so very unimportant, and the claims of its inhabitants to political consideration were so lofty! Dover? yes, they thought Dover might do,--or Canterbury; but the "lever" must be planted in _their_ neighbourhood. In fact, Mr. Mortimer perceived, clearly enough, that the Sandwichers would have liked to tell him, plainly, that Sandwich was the proper "fulcrum" for the "Intellectual Lever," but very shame withheld them. The next day, the traveller went on in the same kind of daily conveyance--half-cab, half-cart--to Ramsgate. The journeying was very pleasant, in the neighbourhood of the sea, and the company very cheerful; but they were not of a character to understand much about levers and fulcrums,--so Mr. Mortimer said nothing about either, but listened rather than conversed.